


Little Boy Lost, then Found

by isabeau25



Series: Wander Home [3]
Category: Epic (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 05:19:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1375222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isabeau25/pseuds/isabeau25
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Food has been disappearing from the harvest caravans, and Queen Tara sends her faithful general to investigate. <b> This story is included in <i>Babe in the Woods</i></b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Boy Lost, then Found

Ronin was a patient man, particularly if being patient got him away from the tedium of the harvest caravans. Not that he would ever admit that; he was the general after all.

He still thought he was the wrong person to do this, but Tara had insisted. Tara was an exceptional queen, but there were times that she made no sense to him at all. She could have at least sent someone who had children. There were plenty of highly qualified Leafmen who had vastly more experience with children than he did. Given that he had almost no experience at all, that wasn’t a hard mark to meet.

Despite what his captains thought, Ronin did not always loose arguments with Tara; he just didn’t brag about it when he won. That wasn’t ever why he argued with her. He really hadn’t tried that hard this time though. There was a little boy wandering around the woods, apparently alone, sneaking food from the harvest caravans, and they were only a month out from the first snow. They needed to find him and make sure he was safe before winter set in.

The child had thus far proven to be both fast and clever. A few of the Leafmen in the caravan escorts had tried to catch him, but he had outrun them long enough to find a good hiding place. While the Leafmen had only been trying to help him, and none of them would have ever hurt any child, it had apparently frightened the boy, because they hadn’t seen him since.  

Ronin had decided he was not going to chase him. The boy was obviously motivated by food, so when Ronin found small bare footprints in the mud of a river bank, he set out a pile of seeds and sweets, then sat on a tree root to wait. The boy had taken mostly seeds from the harvest caravan, and Ronin didn’t think there was a child in existence who didn’t like honey brittle and seed cake.

It was two days of waiting, and chasing off the occasional ant, before the child finally appeared. He was small, far too skinny and far too young to be alone. His Leafmen had been right; the boy needed to be brought in and cared for.

Ronin didn’t want to chase him though. That had frightened him off before and not been terribly effective. He didn’t want to let him get away either. As he watched the boy sniff at the honey brittle, then carefully lick it, he pulled a piece of seed cake out of his bag. The boy grinned and crunched down on the brittle.

“I’ve got more sweets,” Ronin called softly, holding out the seed cake.

The boy jumped and clutched the honey brittle to his chest, eyes wide.

“That’s all yours,” Ronin reassured him, the seed cake still extended out to him, “there’s more too.”

The child eyed him cautiously. His pants were tattered and his knees and elbows were skinned. He had a large leaf wrapped around his shoulders like a cloak. He shifted nervously from one bare foot to the other, looking longingly at the seed cake.

“Can you understand me?” Ronin asked quietly.

The child cocked his head to the side, listening, but Ronin wasn’t sure if he understood. He was very interested in the seed cake though. He inched nearer, pieces of honey brittle still clutched in one hand.

“My name is Ronin,” the general kept talking, hoping to coax him closer, “what’s your name?”

With a quick hop the boy lunged forward and snatched the seed cake out of Ronin’s hand, then darted back.

“All yours,” Ronin said, not moving from his seat.

The boy sniffed at the seed cake, his eyes fixed on Ronin, then took a cautious bite, which was quickly followed by a second and third.

“Not bad, huh?” Ronin laughed softly, reaching in his pack for another one, “I have lots more.”

The child stuffed the rest of the seed cake in his mouth, chewing messily, then looked up at him. Ronin held the cake out, and this time the boy was a little less skittish, although he still retreated back several paces before eating it.

“If you come with me, there will be plenty of food,” Ronin tried, still not sure he understood.

The boy pointed to the pack next to Ronin’s feet.

“Right, food,” Ronin nodded.

The boy held out his hand, making a grabbing motion in the direction of the bag.

“See, if I give this to you, you’re just going to run,” Ronin shook his head, “and that doesn’t really help either of us.”

The boy pointed more insistently at the bag.

“Here,” Ronin pulled out an acorn dumpling, tossing it to the boy, who caught it, gave it a sniff, then shoved it in his mouth.

After he finished the dumpling, the boy sat down to finish the honey brittle, which had been broken into tiny pieces from clutching it too tightly. While he was licking his sticky fingers, Ronin tried to come up with a way to get him to come with him that wouldn’t involve grabbing him or scaring him.

Having gotten as much of the sticky sweet off his fingers as he could, the boy looked at Ronin expectantly. When Ronin didn’t produce more food, he chirped.

Ronin blinked. The boy sounded exactly like a hungry chickadee, and the tiny down feathers tangled in his matted hair looked like they could have belonged to one. Maybe…

Ronin whistled for his mount. They had made the change weeks ago from hummers to titmice, and while a titmouse wasn’t a chickadee, they were almost the same size and had similar coloring, so maybe the boy would be interested.

The boy jumped, then looked up at the sound of wings. His face lit up at the sight of the bird landing next to Ronin, and he whistled like a titmouse. Ronin’s mount looked suitably confused.

“This is Graycrest,” Ronin stood slowly, and reached up to grab the reigns, “do you want to come see him?”

The boy whistled again, and Graycrest whistled back, but stayed patiently with Ronin. The child crept closer, crouching down to examine the girth of the saddle and the buckle. He tugged on the buckle, then worked it loose, puzzling through how to unbuckle it. Ronin almost stopped him, but decided it was better to let him explore.

He did catch the saddle before the boy could pull it down on top of himself. The child jumped and looked up at him as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“If we put that back on, you could come for a ride with me,” Ronin looked down at him over the back of the bird.

The boy chirped at him again and let go of the girth. He grabbed one of the reigns and tugged, but Ronin managed to grab it before he could jerk on his bird’s head.

“Don’t do that,” he said firmly, “you’ll hurt the bird.”

The boy let go of the reign and ducked under the titmouse’s head, digging his fingers into its chest feathers and scratching. Graycrest let out a happy warble, and the boy grinned and scratched harder. Ronin left him to it and walked around the bird to re-buckle his saddle.

When he looked up from the girth, the boy was gone. He had a moment of panic before he realized the child was sitting with his pack, digging through the contents excitedly. He shoved another acorn dumpling in his mouth, then hopped to his feet and grabbed the strap.

Ronin crept around his mount and crouched low, catching the other strap just as the boy tried to leave with the pack. The child jumped and looked at him wide-eyed.

“It’s okay,” Ronin murmured softly, “everything’s okay.”

The boy tugged on the strap nervously with both hands.

“You need to come with me,” Ronin pulled the bag slowly towards him, “there’s lots of food, and a warm place to sleep, and people to take care of you.”

The boy took a hesitant step forward, then dropped the strap abruptly and tried to run. Ronin grabbed his wrist before he could go anywhere. He had been hoping he would be able to coax the boy in without having to actually restrain him, but they couldn’t risk the child getting away, especially this close to winter.

The boy tried to jerk his arm loose, baring his teeth and growling at Ronin like an angry fox. When Ronin didn’t release him, he shoved forward and tried to bite his arm guard.

“Easy, easy,” Ronin cooed, staying still while the boy struggled, “you’re going to chip a tooth that way.”

The child yelled and tried to bite higher up on his arm, but he didn’t have any better luck with the padded under armor. With a scream he tried to scratch Ronin’s face, but the general spun him, pinning him in his lap and trapping his arms across his chest.

“You’re okay,” Ronin tried to sooth him as the boy screamed and struggled, “I’m not going to hurt you. Everything’s going to be alright.”

The boy screamed and kicked and bit, but Ronin held him steady. He didn’t know what else to do. He couldn’t let him go, and he couldn’t make him understand that he wanted to help him. He held the boy pinned until his screams dissolved into sobs, and he stopped struggling.

“See, it’s alright,” Ronin cautiously released him with one hand.

When the boy didn’t try to bolt, Ronin grabbed the strap of his pack and pulled it towards them, setting it in the boy’s lap. The child tipped his head back to look up at him, his breath coming in hiccupping gasps.

“Go on,” Ronin pulled open the pack, “it’s all yours, just like I said.”

The child tentatively dug into the pack, coming up with another seed cake and a small bag of honey brittle. He ate the seed cake in a two large bites, then tried to figure out how to open the bag of honey brittle. Ronin let him puzzle through the draw strings, helping him when they got tangled.

The food seemed to placate the sniffling child, and he leaned back into Ronin as he munched.

“Feeling better?” Ronin asked softly.

The boy looked up at him again, then pulled an acorn dumpling out of the pack and offered it to him with sticky fingers.

“Thanks,” Ronin laughed and took it, “now, what do you say to that ride little chickadee?”

**Author's Note:**

> [earthstar](http://archiveofourown.org/users/earthstar/pseuds/earthstar) drew me a lovely picture from this scene. You can find it on her tumblr:  
> <http://eastofthemoon.tumblr.com/post/73142380261/so-how-about-that-ride-chickadee-ive-been>


End file.
